As I touched on in the last Cyrsti's Condo post, the more I wrote, the more I thought about my ideas... the more I had. Of course it doesn't hurt with all of the virus's impact, I have had quite a bit of more time to look back at my life and re-discover the factors which have so impacted my life.

One idea I had came after I unexpectedly reached across my body to pet a very needy cat and ended up with a very uncomfortable twinge coming from my left breast. It turns out I had mildly pinched the newer breast mass I have been developing again recently. Then, along the way I began to think how selfish I was feeling.

It could be argued though the whole transgender experience is a selfish one. Especially when one embarks on a hormone replacement therapy routine.

In many ways, HRT is a no return situation unless you just hate the changes or the Goddess forbid, you run into health issues. Take sex for example. Unless you are one of the very few, under the influence of HRT, you are chemically castrating yourself. Even though the process may not bother you, it is a definite impact on a spouse who has been by your side for years.

As I have written about many times, I faced the process with my deceased wife who accepted me as a cross dresser but never as a transgender woman. Even back in those days it was a terrifically tough internal struggle for me. After all, how selfish was I being to only look after my needs.

Finally after a failed suicide event, I had to decide to take the path for me...self survival.

So, ideally, you can say HRT was the ultimate in selfishness for me and had she lived I am sure it would have ultimately led to our breakup as a couple. As she so concisely put it...she didn't set out to be with a woman. Little did she ever know, the person she spent twenty five years with was a woman internally all the time.

I cherish all that I have become and I paid heavy dues to get here.Every morning when I get up, I thank my Goddess for the chance to experience softer skin and my own breasts.  Sadly, if I had the information and courage to have gender transitioned decades ago most certainly, I wouldn't perceive this portion of my life as being selfish.

Maybe it was though. I deprived the people closest to me of my real self. It would have been up to them to accept me or not. 


  1. It was more selfish of me when I was trying to compartmentalize my life - living a double life, really. Because I could not be "myself" with family and friends, I had gotten to the point where I was just carving out some time for them, rather than being there for them always. A therapist that my wife and I were seeing together made the suggestion that I ramp up the compartmentalization by scheduling my feminine-self. He used the analogy of an avid golfer, who compromises by agreeing to only play on Sundays, so that everyone agrees that nothing else should be expected on one day of the week. The trouble, though, was that I awoke every morning feeling every bit the woman I am, and, while golf is an activity, this was the very essence of who I was - every day. The suggestion was made from the therapist's ignorance of gender identity and dysphoria, and it would never have worked. However, it did provide the opportunity for me to explain why it would never work, and that's really when my transition began.

    As I've often said, a gender transition starts with one being honest with self. As hard as that may be to do, the follow-up is to then to be honest with everyone else. In my case, my wife did not accept my cross dressing, but she has been so wonderful in how she has transitioned along with me. It's a different relationship, of course, but it is completely open and honest. Even if she had not wanted to deal with all of the drama of it, I know she would have still supported me. I postponed HRT for her sake, as she wasn't ready to accept breasts on me, but, when she had transitioned to the point of acceptance a couple of years later, I was hit with my first blood clot. After the second clot, I had to resign myself to the fact that HRT would never be part of my transition.

    With the recent passing of Kenny Rogers, I can't help but to hear "The Gambler" in my head. Ha! "You gotta know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em." It's interesting to think of that song from a trans view; transitioning is somewhat of a gamble, really. Fortunately, there is "time enough for countin' when the dealing's done."


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